Lois J. Funk
Mother's hands were busy hands,
But never did they fail
To take the time to tie a bow
Or braid a loose pigtail.
And never did those hands refuse
To soothe a fevered brow,
So even injured dolls pulled through
In Mother's hands, somehow.
It seemed those hands were magic,
Always knowing where to start
To reconstruct a shattered dream
Or mend a broken heart.
Dear Lord, I pray, as years go by,
Whatever life's demands,
That I may give just half the love
I've found in Mother's hands.
Missing you more than you could ever know, Happy Mother's Day, Mama!
I love you!